


All in the Timing

by myowneviltwin



Series: All Ears [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Feels, Clint Brags About His Sex Life, Clint Read Captain America Comics, Clint's Military Kink, Dog Tags, Established Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, First Kiss, First Time Roleplaying, Frottage, M/M, Military Kink, Miscommunication, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Clint Barton, POV Third Person Limited, Pining Bucky Barnes, Pining Clint Barton, Roleplay, Slight Kink-Shaming of Self, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve ships it, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Top!Bucky, Trapped In Elevator, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-02-22 09:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13163658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myowneviltwin/pseuds/myowneviltwin
Summary: Bucky overhears a conversation about a certain archer who may or may not be planning to put the moves on him in the near future. Unfortunately, he doesn't have the whole story...(You'd think by now Steve and Tony would've realized that the walls of Avengers Tower have ears, and you can't have a secret conversation in a building full of spies. On the other hand, eavesdropping ultimately worked out pretty well for Steve...)





	1. When You Assume...

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Staircase Wit](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11303622), and I strongly recommend reading that first. (It's under 5K.)
> 
> Please feel free to point out any typos you find, and give me suggestions for things you would like to see in subsequent chapters! Comments give me life!

“Bucky can handle himself."

Bucky stopped in the hallway at the mention of his own name. Steve sounded pretty certain – a lot more certain than Bucky was, actually. He thought about continuing into the kitchen, but stopped. He decided not to feel bad about eavesdropping. It was Steve’s fault for talking about him when he wasn’t in the room. Besides, Steve wasn’t the type to say anything about Bucky behind his back that he wouldn’t say straight to his face.

“I didn’t say he can’t,” Tony replied, “But if he _handles_ Clint, I’m not sure Clint will still be in one piece afterwards.” 

“He’s not going to hurt Clint,” Steve responded, with steel in his tone.

“Not on purpose, of course not. But...”

Bucky swallowed hard against the emotions rising in his throat. He had been living in Stark’s tower for six months, but apparently, Tony was still afraid of what he might do to one of his teammates if he had a “Winter Soldier” moment?

“Not by accident, either,” Steve defended him – no surprise, there.

“You super soldier types sometimes forget your own strength – in the ‘heat of the moment’. Not complaining, sweetheart, just observing.”

Okay, what? Now, Bucky was really confused.

“It’s way too soon to be worried about... that,” Steve said – and he sounded awkward.

“I don’t know, babe, Clint’s definitely about to make some kind of move, and you know he has no self-preservation instincts. I just think he might come on too strong and the Winter Smolder might panic and do some serious damage.”

Bucky heard Steve sigh. “You’re worried over nothing. Bucky’s not going to have some kind of gay panic and break Clint.”

“So you think he might actually be into Clint?”

Bucky was, actually, pretty into Clint. The smart-ass archer had been the only person to treat him like he was a person, instead of a time bomb waiting to go off, from day one. Possibly because he really did lack adequate self-preservation instincts. It was nice to spend time with someone who wasn’t treating him like he was fragile. It made him feel normal. Not necessarily like “his old self again”, like Steve might have wanted, but... like a person. A fairly strange person, yes, but, as Tony liked to say of his self-made family, “We’re all mad here.”

Long story short, Bucky admired Clint’s moxie. And his arms. Those were some nice arms. And the utter focus he was capable of narrowing on a target. And his cocky little smirk. And his absolutely perfect ass. He had spent more time than was probably normal admiring that ass. (But apparently not so much that Steve and Tony had noticed, so... yay?) 

“I'm not sure. He might be. But even if he’s not, he’s not going to get _violent_. It’s not like Clint would be the first guy to try to get fresh with him.”

“Get fresh? That’s adorable. Look, getting hit on in the 40's and getting hit on now are a _bit_ different, honey.”

“You don’t say,” Steve replied, voice full of sarcasm.

“Clint can be kind of pushy, and what he’s into is a bit _out there_... for someone from the Greatest Generation, anyway. Even if the gay thing doesn’t freak him out... what about the...?”

The what? _The what?!?_ Bucky wanted to yell. He waited impatiently for Stark to finish his sentence.

“Oh, you mean... _Oh_.”

“Yeah, _oh_.”

“Clint wouldn’t just spring something like that on him without talking about it first, right?”

“I wouldn’t think so, but... I have learned that it’s not smart to overestimate Clint.”

“But that’s not - he wouldn’t... I mean, really? You think...?”

“You’re adorable when you’re all flustered, but I’m going to need you to finish a sentence if you want me to respond.”

Steve sighed again. “Okay. Yeah, I could see Bucky maybe freaking out a little over the whole... BDSM kink... thing. But, I really wouldn’t know what on earth to say to warn him, even if I wanted to. And if I tried, he’d want to know _how I know_ what kind of thing Clint’s into, and... yikes.”

BDSM? Clint was into...? Yikes, indeed.

“You can just tell him you overheard him talking about his dom-sub fantasy scenario, you don’t have to tell him it was about you.”

 _What? The ever-loving fuck?_ Clint had fantasized about dominating _Captain fucking America?_ Bucky didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or admire Clint’s ambition.

“Do you think it would be an issue? I mean, so what if Clint maybe had a little bit of a thing for me, way back when? It was a harmless infatuation. And not really even about me, as much as it was about, you know, ‘Captain America’. And it was purely physical. And he hadn’t even _met_ Bucky back then!”

“I really don’t think Iceman can have a problem with Clint lusting after you. I mean, the man has two eyes, so... I mean... does _anyone_ look at you and not want a piece?”

If Bucky had been in the room, he would’ve raised his hand. He loved Steve, but, they had practically grown up together as family. They were too much like brothers.

“Stop objectifying me,” Steve pouted.

“Oh, baby, you know I love you for so much _more_ than your drop-dead gorgeous, smoking hot, pinnacle-of-human-perfection, should-be-on-display-in-an-art-museum... sorry, what was I talking about?”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.”

“Hey, I have an idea. How about we stop worrying about someone else’s hypothetical sex life, and go upstairs and concentrate on our own?”

“That is the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Bucky rolled his eyes again, harder this time.

Damn those two and their domestic bliss. He was glad Steve had someone who made him happy, really – even if it was Stark. But he really needed to figure out this whole Clint thing, and who was he supposed to talk to, if Steve and Tony were off shagging like bunnies? He heard Steve moan enthusiastically, realized he wasn’t going to hear anything else useful, and turned and walked back to the stairwell. Maybe he’d go up on the roof for a while.

He trudged up the stairs and pondered. He felt like he should’ve been happy – the guy he liked probably liked him back. And he didn’t care if Clint had liked Steve first – as long as Clint wasn’t still carrying a torch for Steve, it didn’t matter. But the sex thing... that had him worried. He didn’t know a lot about BDSM, and there was a reason for that. When Steve had introduced him to the modern marvel that was the Internet, and explained things like Safe Search and Incognito Tabs, he had let his curiosity get the better of him, and searched for some blue movies. It had been an eye-opening experience. He hadn’t actually found much of it arousing – whether that was a side effect of his still-recovering libido, or just an aversion to hardcore smut, he couldn’t really say. The “fetish” images and videos he had seen were more scary than sexy. He quickly realized he was happier using his own imagination. 

The idea of being restrained made him profoundly uncomfortable. Being gagged, blindfolded, or forced to obey orders was.... well. He understood on an intellectual level that there was a difference between two consenting people, enjoying a game of pretend, and what had been done to him... but the idea still filled him with dread. 

More than anything, he felt like some kind of failure. He felt guilty, and crazy, and... broken. Clint might actually want him back – but he was too screwed up from being brainwashed to be able to give him what he wanted. He opened the roof access door and shivered in the night air. 

Maybe... maybe it wouldn’t be so scary, if it was Clint doing those things to him? Maybe he could get through it, if he trusted Clint? He sat down on the edge of the roof, leaned back, and closed his eyes. He tried to picture Clint kissing him. Okay, so far, so good. Clint touching his skin. Taking off his clothes. Oh, yeah. That was working. He imagined Clint leading him to bed, then taking his wrists and shackling them to the bedposts.

His eyes shot open. His heart was racing, his palms were sweating. Okay, nope. That wasn’t going to work. He took some deep breaths to calm himself. Fuck. He couldn’t give up control, not like that, he couldn’t even pretend to.

But he couldn’t ask Clint to give up on what he wanted, to settle for someone as damaged as him. He should get to be with someone who wanted the same things, who could surrender to him, and trust him completely, openly. Clint deserved someone who could make him happy.

This wasn’t going to work. Bucky leaned forward and hid his face in his hands. He tried to tell himself that it was better he figure this out now, before he was too far gone... but it did nothing to lessen the feeling of disappointment and the sense of gnawing, aching loss.

But Tony was right. If Clint tried to restrain him? Control him? Discipline him? He couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t panic like a cornered animal. He couldn’t take that risk. He had to walk away now.

No matter how much it hurt.


	2. One Dialogue, Two Conversations

Of course, Steve could tell almost immediately that something was bothering him. 

Last night, he had sat on the roof and made up his mind to back off from his flirtation with Clint. If he just put some space between the two of them, he would surely get over his infatuation in time. He had no intention of telling Steve what he had overheard, but Steve had a sixth sense about feelings. He walked into the gym, spotted Bucky hitting the heavy bag, and in no time, he was making his Dad Face.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, that’s obviously crap. You don’t have to tell me, but don’t insult my intelligence.”

“Won’t leave us much to talk about, but okay.”

“C’mon, Buck. Something’s clearly on your mind.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me about it, that’s fine, but you might feel better if you opened up to somebody. Anyone here would be happy to listen. Well, except maybe Bruce, he tends to zone out and then say he’s 'not that kind of doctor', but, I mean, we’re all here for you. Tony, Natasha, Clint –“

At the mention of Clint’s name, Bucky visibly deflated. He didn’t mean to, but Steve couldn’t help but notice.

“What – is this about Clint?”

“What’re you talking about?” Bucky knew playing dumb wouldn’t help, but it was his default response to uncomfortable topics.

“Did he... do something?”

“No.”

“Did he... say something?”

“No, you big dummy, you did!”

“What?”

Bucky sighed. “I heard you and Tony last night in the kitchen.”

“I… which part?”

“Enough. Stark thinks Clint’s about to make a move on me, even though he apparently used to like your big blonde self – I’m assuming that was before you and Stark started stepping out together? – and he thinks the whole thing may end in bloodshed. And then you two got distracted by your raging hormones, that’s when I gave up and left.”

“Listen, Buck, I’m sorry about what Tony said. You know I don’t think you’re dangerous and he’s worried about nothing.”

“But I am dangerous, Steve. That’s kinda the point. I’m a brainwashed ex-assassin science experiment.”

“Hey, lay off. That’s my friend you’re talking about. And, you’re not the only one in this room who’s a science experiment.” Steve nudged Bucky playfully with his shoulder. “Okay, yes, fine, you’re dangerous, but so is everyone who lives here. And I’m not worried. You’re one of the good guys now. You’re in control, no one else.”

“And I have to keep it that way,” Bucky said, a little sadly.

Steve’s brow furrowed. “No one’s going to take that away from you. We won’t let them.”

Steve was right, he couldn’t take the risk that an intimate relationship might setback his recovery. “I’m not upset that Stark is worried, I’m upset ‘cause he’s right. At least a little bit.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, I’ll get over it.”

“Get over what?”

“You know… the Clint thing.”

“It’s a problem that he likes you?”

“Not exactly.”

Steve considered this for a moment, then jumped to entirely the wrong conclusion. “It bothers you that he used to like _me_? Because it shouldn’t, it really -”

“Jeez, Steve, what an ego! No, I don’t care about his questionable taste.”

“Then what’s the problem? If you like him, and he likes you… why not go for it?”

“Because I really could hurt him. It would be too risky to start something with anybody, but especially with Clint, considering… what he’s into.”

“You’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

“Maybe you’re giving me too much.”

“Don’t you think you should at least talk to him before you make up your mind?”

“No, it’s better if it never goes that far. If it doesn't get awkward, we can just stay friends.”

“Do you really want to just stay friends, or are you scared to let yourself want more than that?”

“Steve. Come on. He’s better off if he stays clear of this disaster.”

“Funny, he probably says the same thing about you.”

“Can we just drop this already? It’s just not going to work.”

“But you don’t know that. People can change. You and I know that more than most people. I mean, did you ever think I’d end up with someone like Tony?”

Bucky considered this. “A mouthy genius? Yes. A man? Not so much at the time, no. And definitely not a billionaire superhero.”

“I don’t want to see you give up on this just because you think you know what he wants, and you think you can’t give it to him. I almost made the same mistake with Tony, you know. With his reputation, I never would’ve made a move on him in a million years. I thought, he’s been everywhere and done _everything_ , there’s no way he’d want someone like me… who’d barely kissed anybody, and thought a rim job was an automotive repair.”

“Okay, I really don’t want to hear any more about you and Stark’s sex life, thanks.”

“Tough. Because I never would’ve dreamed what he would be like, based on what I knew before. I had no idea how perfect we would be together. I nearly wrote him off because of what I assumed he would and wouldn’t want. And that would have been a damn tragedy. You should talk to Clint. If it turns out you don’t want the same things, then, okay, but you should at least hear it from him.”

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“No way. If you give up now, then it’s my fault. I can’t have that.” Steve smiled broadly.

“Stop smiling like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you already won this argument. You ain’t won nothin’, punk.”

But Steve just kept smiling, the big stupid lug. Bucky went back to punching things.


	3. Clint Barton and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint has a bad day. He tries to spend time alone with Bucky. Bucky declines. Clint is sad and gets some advice.

Clint was having a Terrible Day. 

Not his Worst Day Ever or anything, not by a long shot, but Terrible all the same. 

It had started off only a Somewhat Frustrating Morning, when he accidentally washed his hair with what turned out to be shaving gel. (This was definitely not his fault. Nat had given him a bunch of fancy-but-decidedly-manly grooming products for Christmas, and he was just getting around to trying them out. The print on the tiny fancy bottles was too small to read under steamy conditions. Huh, Steamy Conditions. That was a pretty good band name.) 

Then he couldn’t find any clean socks, and had to wear the slightly scummy ones from yesterday. (He usually didn’t mind wearing the same clothes for up to a week, but there was just something about dirty socks that made him feel gross.) 

And then there was the Pop Tart Debacle. One of the less-great things about living with other people was that they tended to not only _have_ opinions about his eating habits, but they were inclined to _share_ said opinions. (“Clint, you eat like a ten-year old whose parents left him alone for the weekend,” “How do you still have any of your teeth when you eat nothing but sugar and carbs?”, “Enjoy your future diabetes,” and so on.) Which was all fine, and sometimes made his sugary cereal even more satisfying. (Thumbing his nose at the food pyramid was even more delicious with judgmental witnesses.) But this time, the Food Police had gone too far. Someone had replaced his limited edition Frosted Sugar Cookie Snowman Pop Tarts with a box of Nature’s Valley Vegan Organic oatmeal berry _nonsense_. They weren’t even _frosted!_ Honestly!

But, all of that would’ve been laughed off and forgotten, had it not been for the Slime Attack Fiasco. 

As one of the team’s least-super heroes, Clint seemed to get assigned to two types of missions more than others. First, there were the Covert Ops. If they needed someone to go undercover, they really couldn’t send Stark, Cap, or Thor. Stark and the Cap were practically movie stars at this point, and no amount of sunglasses, hoodies, and baseball caps were going to keep them from being recognized for long. And even if _People_ magazine hadn’t named Thor “Sexiest Man Alive”, he couldn’t blend in to save his life. Subterfuge was simply not in his wheelhouse. Clint usually didn’t mind these sorts of missions. When he and Nat worked together, they were sometimes actually fun. (He had a recurring fantasy about going on an undercover mission with a certain new teammate – sharing close quarters, saving each other from imminent peril, flirting during long stakeouts... too bad said teammate’s metal arm tended to make him stand out in a crowd...)

And second, there were the “Low-Risk/Milk Run” type jobs. Somehow, Clint had gotten a reputation as a one-man Superhero Recruiting Team, and every time a youth wreaked havoc with their newly discovered ability to manipulate magnetic fields or conjure sunlight at will, Clint was dispatched to convince the Teenage Time Bomb to calm down, stop causing public panic and property damage, and let SHIELD doctors poke at them in a controlled lab setting until they were either sent to Xavier’s School for Misfit Mutants or SHIELD Baby-Special-Agent Academy. These missions were great when they had a good chat and a happy ending – but when they went the other way, they were pretty heartbreaking. Today’s mission wasn’t going so great. Clint was attempting to talk down an angry punk kid with an orange Mohawk who had been melting shit all over Prospect Park, when he was suddenly hit with a tsunami’s worth of neon pink slime (which turned out to be a liquefied billboard for Mini-Golf). It hit him hard enough to knock him off his feet – and he was pretty sure he accidentally swallowed a mouthful of the stuff. So he was too busy trying not to aspirate on liquid billboard to see Bucky take the kid out with a tranquilizer dart. Which was a damn shame, because Bucky was _gorgeous_ in Sniper Mode.

Then Clint had to suffer through the medical team checking him for damage and trying to collect as much slime as they could. (He didn’t even mention having swallowed some of the stuff, they might have wanted to keep him longer, and he was pretty sure he’d eaten worse. Drank worse? Whatever.) He finally got a desperately-needed shower in the decontamination chamber, and headed to the communal kitchen to refuel. 

Stark was his usually charmingly dickish self. He pretended to wipe slime of the side of Clint's head, saying, “Think you missed a spot.” 

Clint just rolled his eyes and went straight for the fridge, hoping for leftover pizza or Chinese food. Alas, it was not to be. He eyed the fridge’s contents with suspicion. It was full of food, but it was all... complicated food. Things you’d have to actually... do things to, before you could eat them. What was the word he was looking for? Prepare? Cook. He wasn’t in the mood to cook things! He sighed, and checked the freezer. Ew. A bunch of frozen vegetables, and some kind of Heart-Smart Lean Cuisine crap. He scowled. He looked around the room. Bucky was peeling an apple with a knife, and Stark was concentrating on his phone, trying so hard to look innocent and uninterested that Clint wouldn’t have been surprised if he started whistling.

“Okay, the Pop Tarts were bad enough, but this is too much! What happened to all the food I picked out?” Clint asked, trying not to whine.

“Steve did it,” Tony said immediately – apparently not seeing any reason not to throw his boyfriend under the bus.

Clint thought about stamping his feet and ranting to Stark and Bucky that Cap was not the boss of him, and this wasn't Soviet Russia... but decided instead to use the Great Junk Food Purge as an opportunity.

“I’m going out for pizza. Bucky, you want to come with me?”

Stark feigned hurt, “I’m not invited?”

Clint narrowed his eyes at Stark. “No, you can stay here and eat flaxseed and chickpeas for dinner with Captain Control Freak!”

He turned to Bucky, trying to look nonchalant (and probably failing).

Bucky mumbled something under his breath, then bit into his apple. The only words Clint actually caught were “pass” and “sorry”. 

Clint wasn’t going to give up that easily. “C’mon, Bucky, I’m having a pretty shitty day... please?”

Bucky didn’t meet his gaze, he just mumbled again, then turned and walked out of the kitchen. He didn’t even take his apple with him. Clint stared after him, visibly stung, feeling his bad day become officially Terrible. Why was Bucky blowing him off? What the fuck had he done wrong? He looked at Stark. “Was it something I said?”

Stark just threw his hands up in an exaggerated shrug, staring back at Clint. He blinked a few times, then said, “I’ll get pizza with you if you want, as long as you don’t tell Steve.” 

Clint considered the offer. On one hand, he knew he would be shitty company right now. He had thought he and Bucky were getting closer, but now he wouldn’t even make eye contact? It hurt. He sort of wanted to go and lick his wounds in peace, think through all his recent interactions with Bucky and figure out where he went wrong. On the other hand, Stark would almost certainly pay for his food. Clint may be a superhero, but he was still on a budget...

“Fine, but you’re paying.”

“Obviously.”

“And we’re picking up gelato afterwards. The expensive kind. For which you will also pay.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Let’s go, then. Y’know, I brushed my teeth like six times, but I feel like I can still taste that billboard...”

“What does billboard taste like, anyway?”

“Well, you ever eat wet newspaper?”

“Um... not recently, no.”

“Well, it’s kind of like that, but more metallic. And pink.”

“You can taste pink?”

“You can’t?”

.......

He did feel better after consuming half a large pepperoni pizza. Stark wasn’t actually so bad, when he wasn’t trying to irritate everyone around him just for the fun of it. They walked to the Fancy Gelato place and chatted.

“So how are things with you and Captain Food Nazi, anyway?”

“Great. Eighty-five percent of the time, he makes me the happiest Iron Man on the planet.”

“And the other fifteen percent of the time?”

“I reflect that people who work together probably shouldn’t also live and sleep together.”

“You and Pepper worked together.”

“We did – and look how that turned out.”

“Familiarity starting to breed contempt?”

“God, no! ...Not on my end, anyway.”

“Shut up, Cap fucking adores you. So much it’s, quite frankly, kinda gross.”

“Maybe, for now. But how long can he really be expected to put up with my bullshit – especially when he’s exposed to it nearly 24 hours a day?”

“Hey, he signed up for the gig. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

“If anyone could make a relationship succeed through sheer force of will, I think it’d be Cap.”

Tony smiled. “He is a stubborn sonofabitch, that I’m willing to concede.”

They walked in silence for a few moments. Clint’s thoughts inevitably drifted to his recent rejection.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Ugh. No... Maybe. Just... did he say anything before I came in? Did he seem like he was having a bad day? Because I haven’t seen him shut down like that in at least a month.”

“No, he seemed pretty normal, for him. Quiet, but that’s pretty standard.”

“I don’t know, I’m trying not to read too much into it, but... this feels like a pretty big step back.”

“And you want to be taking big steps forward, right?”

Clint decided he might as well admit to his crush. He wasn't exactly being stealthy about it, anyway. “...Ideally, yes. I really thought he’d say yes, and I’d be working up the nerve to put the moves on him right now, not drowning my sorrows in ice cream... shit, maybe that’s why. If you could tell, he probably can, too. He shut down ‘cause he figured out I’m into him. That’s gotta be it. Fuck.”

“Try not to take it personally – he’s still recovering from decades of mind control, after all. He may just not be ready to leap into something.”

“So you don’t think I should give up?”

“What? I have no idea. I’m not the guy you want romantic advice from, believe me.”

“You and Steve are the only people I know in a stable relationship at the moment.”

“What? No, that’s – holy fuck, you’re right. How the hell did that happen?”

“Cap's Epic Stubbornness. We've already covered this. What is your advice, Oh Coupled One?”

“Um... I guess... just wait and see what he does? Let him... come to you, when he's ready?”

“Your advice is basically to do nothing?”

“Yes. And I scored Captain America, so, I must know what I’m talking about.”

“That just sounds _so wrong_...”

“Yeah... it felt weird saying it, to be honest... Oh, and don't spring the whole... y'know, BDSM kink thing on him right away. You're gonna want to work up to that, considering his whole...” Tony waved his hand vaguely.

“Um, DUH, Stark. I'm not a complete idiot.”

Tony looked at Clint, considering. “Well...”

Clint elbowed Tony. “Keep it up, Stark. See if I let you come with me next time.”

It was an idle threat, though. Clint wasn't about to start paying for his own fancy gelato.


	4. Desperate Measures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve takes drastic measures to get Bucky and Clint to talk to each other. Clint gets sappy. Bucky finally figures it out.

“Sweetheart, did you say something to your FFBFF about Clint? Because something weird happened in the kitchen tonight...” Tony trailed off as he came into the bedroom, distracted by the sight of Steve lounging on the bed, focused on sketching a skyline.

“My... what?”

“FFBFF. Formerly Frozen Best Friend Forever. Get it?”

“Yeah, uh, that’s cute,” Steve said, but Tony could tell he didn’t really get it. “What happened in the kitchen?”

“When Birdbrain got back from medical, Mr. Freeze blew him off, and he was kind of heartbroken about it.”

“Damn it, I really thought I convinced him to give Clint a chance! I was right, he is interested, he’s just... gun shy.”

“He was more than gun shy, he practically ran for cover.”

“Was Clint really upset?”

“I mean, he was visibly disappointed, but I told him not to take it personally, the guy’s still recovering from being Hydra’s Murder Puppet, after all.”

“This is all our fault. If Bucky hadn’t overheard us, he wouldn’t be scared of going too far and accidentally hurting Clint.”

“Well... shit. I feel bad now.” Tony sat down on the bed. “But, hey, if he’s not ready, he’s not ready...” Tony looked at Steve’s hangdog expression and sighed. Steve wasn’t going to let this go. It was written all over his face. “Don’t make that face, they’ll sort it out.”

“But we messed this up. Bucky’s never going to approach Clint, he thinks it’ll just make things awkward. I guess maybe Clint could still go for it, right? He’s not ready to give up after one attempt, that’s not his style.”

Tony looked away, his lips pursing involuntarily. He shrugged.

“Tony?”

“I _may_ have told him that he should give Bucky some space and wait for Bucky to come to him.”

“Tony!”

“It seemed like good advice at the time! Besides, it’s not like Clint always listens to me! It's probably more like 50/50.”

Steve shook his head, looked at the ceiling, and made other expressions that seemed to say, “Lord, give me strength”.

“We’ll give them a week to talk it out on their own. After that, I’ll lock them in a closet together if I have to.”

Tony laughed. “Oh, no, anything but a closet! The irony is too much.” Steve's brow furrowed adorably. “Don't worry about it, come on. Let me take your mind off those dummies.”

Steve pretended to consider the offer. “I don’t know, I’m pretty steamed about you guys going out for pizza and Jell-o. I thought we agreed to try to make healthier choices.”

Tony decided that explaining the difference between Jell-O and gelato would not be helpful at this particular moment. “Who ratted me out?”

“JARVIS.”

“Damn it. Betrayed by my own creation. Are you really too mad for sex, or do you just need some convincing?”

Steve grinned. “What do you think?”

.......

For about a week after Bucky’s “strategic retreat” in the kitchen, it seemed to be all Steve, Stark, or anyone for that matter, wanted to talk about. Even Natasha weighed in – insomuch as she muttered, “Just talk to him, idiot” under her breath in Russian, in between sips of coffee, when Bucky passed her in the kitchen.

Stark even loaded a bunch of informational bookmarks onto his Starkphone. Some of it was general “BDSM for Beginners” guides and articles, some of it was a little more specific, including a “How to Tell if You’re Ready for a Relationship” guide from a PTSD support group. (At least, he assumed Stark did it. He hoped it wasn’t Natasha.) 

He had the same response every time: a growled “Mind your own damn business”, with a side of Murder Glare. He had made up his mind to get over his crush. He would give Clint the chance to move on, and find someone better. Maybe someday, a few years down the road, when he was more stable, then he could start thinking about romancing somebody. For now, all he needed to do was put some space between the two of them. 

Unfortunately, Captain Tight Pants had other plans. Bucky kept finding the archer around every corner, as though by fate – or a building-wide conspiracy. Sometimes it wasn’t even subtle. Steve asked him to spar and said he’d meet him in the gym in ten minutes, and when Bucky got there, Clint was waiting to meet Natasha. Wearing yoga pants and no shirt. (God have mercy.) But the blatant manipulation only made him more determined. He turned on his heel to leave. 

“Do I smell or somethin’?” Clint yelled. 

“It’s not you, I gotta go pound the snot out of a nosy little shit,” Bucky replied, before marching off to find Steve and give him a piece of his mind. Of course, Steve pretended he had no idea what Bucky was talking about. 

“Sorry, I got held up talking to Tony, I was just about to head down there.”

“Oh, so you won’t mind going for a run in the park instead?”

“Whatever you want, Buck... Should we see if Clint wants to come, too?” Bucky threw a towel at his head. “Is that a no?”

By the time they got stuck in the elevator together, Bucky was pretty much resigned to his fate. He had been in the elevator, on the way to the roof, when it suddenly stopped and opened on Clint’s floor. He was ready to bolt and take the stairs, but when the doors opened, no one was there. When he hit the button and the doors started to close again, they were stopped at the last second by Clint, who flung himself inside – and then it was too late.

“Hey,” Clint said. “Want to go shoot arrows on the roof? These glow in the dark. We can write stuff on ‘em and taunt those dicks in the Baxter building.”

“Um, no thanks, I’m just... I’m headed out, actually.”

“This elevator’s going up, though.”

“Oh, right.” Shit. “I... guess I wasn’t payin’ attention.”

Clint grimaced. “Look, Bucky... I get the message, okay? I’m backing off. You’re not interested, it’s cool, let’s just forget about it. It doesn’t have to be weird. You don’t have to avoid me. I want to get back to normal.”

Bucky sighed. “I want that, too, but it’s just not that simple.”

Clint grimaced. “Well, fuck, dude. I’m sorry for freaking you out with my Big Gay Crush on you. You’ve spent a lot of time checking out my ass for someone who’s not into guys, but whatever, I’ll fuck off and leave you alone.”

“What?! Clint, that’s not what I meant, Jesus!”

“Well what did you mean, then? Why can’t you stand to be in the same room as me anymore?”

“I want us to go back to normal, but... I just need some time... to get over you. Now can we please, just – “

And that was when the elevator stopped moving, and all the lights went out. 

“What the fuck? JARVIS, what the fuck’s happening?”

“That little fuckin’ _punk_...”

“Huh?”

“It’s Steve. And Stark. They trapped us in here to get us to talk.”

“Fuck... I never should’ve encouraged Cap to watch sitcoms!”

“Does your phone work? I suddenly have no signal _for no apparent reason!_ ”

Clint fumbled for his phone, but couldn’t get it to turn on. “I think my battery’s dead.”

“There’s no way this is random. Those interfering _dickheads_!”

Clint considered the situation. “Well, do you want to try prying the doors open, or should we just... bow to the inevitable?”

“What?”

“Maybe we should just give them what they want and finish our conversation. Because a minute ago, I’m not sure, but it sounded like you said you need some time to _get over me_?”

Bucky sighed and leaned back against the wall of the elevator. “You caught that, huh?”

“Yep... so, I’m not crazy? There’s something here? You feel a thing?”

“You are definitely crazy, but not about this. You’re not the only one with a Big Gay Crush, okay? This ain’t even my first.”

“Then why...? If you’re into me, too, then why have you been avoiding me like a basket full of fridge magnets?”

“Because this... is not a good idea. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

“Um... what makes you think that you’d hurt me?”

“I’m fucked up, okay? I mean it, I’m a basketcase; I’m a dangerous fuckin’ weapon.”

“Bullshit. You are none of those things. You are a guy who was used by evil people to do evil shit. And so am I. You are a guy with enough psych issues and past trauma to be a shrink’s wet dream. And so am I. And you are no more likely to hurt me than I am to hurt you. And I think it’s totally worth the risk.”

“You say that now, but you have no idea how fucked up the inside of my head is.”

“Well, then _tell me_.”

“I tried to think about... and I couldn’t even do it _in my head_. I couldn’t even _pretend_. I nearly had a damn panic attack just _thinking_ about –“ Bucky’s voice broke, and he buried his head in his hands.

“God, Bucky, I’m sorry. Fuck, I wish I could see you right now. Can I... is it okay if I...” Clint’s hand tentatively gripped his shoulder. “Is this okay? I can move.”

“It’s fine... It’s helping. I’m... I told you I’m fucked up.”

“Stop, please. Stop beating yourself up. We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to. When we get out of here, I’ll leave you alone, as long as you need. And if I need to, I will kick Steve’s ass, because it was totally not okay for him to try to force this on you if you’re not ready.”

“No, he... he’s just trying to help... in his typical stupid punk way.” Bucky sighed. “Maybe he was right, ‘cause, you deserve to know... it’s not that I don’t want you, it’s that I’m not... capable. I can’t give you what you want. Not now, maybe not ever.”

Clint leaned against the wall next to Bucky, sliding his hand down his arm and tentatively lacing his fingers with Bucky’s. “This okay?”

“Yeah. I’m really sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I am, though. I really wish this could happen.”

“Well, shit, me too.” He knew he should probably drop the subject, but he would never be able to move on unless he was sure there was no way forward. “Listen, we can take it slow, we can just... keep doing what we’ve been doing, hanging out, getting to know each other... and if you’re never ready to take it to the next level, that’s okay with me, but I’m not ready to rule out more, and it sounds like you aren’t either.”

“I can’t ask that, it’s not fair to you. You deserve to find somebody –”

“Look, shut up with that. I _already_ found somebody. And you’re not asking me for anything. I’m asking you to not give up just yet. If I don’t ask, it’s gonna drive me nuts, so... I’m thinking the thing you’re freaking out about, it’s a sex thing, right?”

Bucky didn’t respond.

“Is it... all sex, like, with anybody? Or just, sex with a guy? Is it me specifically? Because as much as I love sex, I want you to know, I would never push you to do anything you’re not 100% ready for. And I got time. I can take care of myself, seriously. My longest relationship has been with my left hand.”

Bucky groaned. “Please stop. You’re just makin’ this harder.”

Clint bit his lip. This was a serious conversation, and he needed to be serious. He absolutely should not make a dick joke. No matter how hard it was. Heheh. 

“I’m sorry, what am I making harder?”

Bucky elbowed him in the ribs.

“Okay, fine. Total honesty: Yes, I totally want to have sex with you. But I want you to want it just as bad, otherwise what’s the point? So, I can wait as long as you need.”

“But what if I never get there? I don’t want to waste your time on a ‘someday, maybe’.”

“Bucky, that is the dumbest thing you have ever said, and I’m including the time you said coffee wasn’t a food group. Being with you could never, ever, be a waste of time.”

Bucky paused. “I had no idea you were such a sap.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone else. I’d hate to ruin all my player cred.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

A few moments passed in silence. “Do you really think you could be happy in a relationship if you weren’t getting... what you need? It just seems like it might be doomed from the start.”

“What I need...? Oh, I am going to _kill_ Stark! Did he say something to you about...?” Clint sighed. “Okay, listen. Just because a person has a fantasy about something or someone doesn’t always mean they _actually_ want to do whatever, or whoever, it’s about. Sometimes something is more fun to _imagine_ than it is to _actually do_ , and- ”

“Clint, stop, you don’t have to do this. I’m not judging or anything, I’m the one with the problem, not you, okay? I mean, on some level, I even get why you would like– ”

“But it’s really not – I don’t even know if I would want to- ”

“You wanted to do it with Steve, though.”

“Well, not really. I mean, if anything, I wanted to do it with Captain America, and like, not even the _real_ Captain America, the one from the comics I read when I was a horny twelve-year-old.”

“Ugh, those fuckin’ comics, they turned me into a damn kid in those things.”

“Exactly! They were _fiction_. Look, the point is, I don’t _need_ sex to be happy, and I _definitely_ don’t need kinky sex to be satisfied.”

“But you shouldn’t have to give up on what you like just because I’m fucked up in the head.”

“Well, you could make an argument that _I’m_ the one who’s fucked up in the head, given that, even after being _actually mind-controlled_ , I’m the one who still gets off on the idea of getting bossed around, or tied up, or choked, or whatever. But the point is, I would have totally, completely vanilla sex for the rest of my life, and be fine with it, because I really fucking like you – “

_“What?!?”_

“...I really fucking like you?”

“Not that! You! You want to... _what?_ ”

“I get that it’s kinda weird, but the whole point was that we really don’t have to– ”

Bucky’s mind was racing. He had gotten it wrong! He had gotten it _all_ wrong! How the fuck had he gotten it so wrong?!? Why the fuck had he been making himself miserable for a week for _no good goddamned reason?_

“Fuck, I’m a fuckin’ idiot!” There was only one thing to do. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Clint was completely lost, but he was fine with it. “Oh, _hell_ , yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out longer than I expected... Not sure how that happened... The next chapter will continue this scene. (If it goes the way I plan, I'll be bumping the rating up to E, but we'll see. Smut is hard to write! But I love it...) Next chapter might be the last one, or there might be another, depending on how long it gets. 
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I need your love. Like night needs morning.


	5. Can't Wait to See Your Superpowers...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Picks up right where we left off last time.)

Bucky spun towards Clint, attempting to grab his shoulder with his left hand and crowd him against the wall. Clint had a similar idea, though, and tried to meet him more than halfway, wrapping his free hand around Bucky’s waist and yanking him closer. Their hips met a microsecond before their lips collided, somewhat awkwardly, and definitely more forcefully than Bucky had intended. By the time Bucky managed to align their mouths properly, he was distracted by the sudden jarring movement of the elevator. He pulled back slightly, opened his eyes, and realized the lights were back on. Clint gazed at him through half-open eyelids and blinked a few times, then closed them again as he leaned forward to bring their lips together once more.

Bucky couldn’t bring himself to pull away again, not with Clint teasing the seam of his lips with his hot, wet tongue. He completed his earlier intention and pressed Clint fully against the elevator wall. Clint moaned softly and Bucky couldn’t resist the temptation to nibble on his lower lip. The elevator stopped again and dinged lightly as the doors opened. 

“Oh, hey guys,” Stark said, “The elevator’s fixed now, you’re welcome.”

Bucky managed to remove his hand from Clint’s hair long enough to make an obscene gesture in Tony’s direction.

“Real nice, Freezerburn. Should I just leave you in there, next time?”

Bucky reluctantly pulled his mouth from Clint’s and turned to face Stark – and Steve, who was standing next to him, grinning like the little punk he still was inside. “I know you two locked us in there on purpose, lucky for you, I got better things to do right now than beat you senseless. Jarvis? Close the doors, please.”

“Certainly, Sergeant Barnes,” Jarvis said. 

“Have fun, you two! Make good choices!” Tony yelled as the doors closed. He snickered a little and turned to look at his boyfriend. “I can’t believe that worked.”

"Of course it worked," Steve said, and gave Tony a celebratory kiss. 

(Tony decided not to tell Steve that he had actually given Jarvis two different conditions for starting the elevator, and he gave both options about 50/50 odds. He was just glad it was the first condition, the kissing one, and not option B, the fail-safe in case of inappropriate violence, that got them moving.)

.......

Bucky looked at Clint through blown pupils, bit his lip, and asked, “Your place or mine?”

Clint grinned. “Yours is probably cleaner.”

Bucky wasn’t going to argue with that. “You heard the man, Jarvis.” 

“Going down,” Jarvis said, and Clint giggled a little before Bucky dove back into the task at hand – specifically, driving Clint out of his mind. 

Clint responded enthusiastically, grabbing the side of his face with one hand and a handful of his ass with the other. Bucky moved from Clint’s mouth to his jaw, kissed a trail down his neck, and was shoving his shirt out of the way to suck a bruise on his clavicle when the elevator stopped again. The doors opened with another soft ding, and Bucky grabbed Clint’s hand and did his best not to drag him down the hallway to his door. Clint blinked rapidly a few times and shook his head as though to clear it. Bucky took this for the compliment it obviously was. “You okay?”

“Yeah, awesome, just... kinda can’t believe this is actually happening. Not that I’m not thrilled, but what changed your mind?”

Bucky clenched his jaw a little, embarrassed. “It’s dumb.”

“Well, now I have to know.”

They reached his door, and Bucky hurried to open it. “I thought you wanted to be in charge,” Bucky muttered quickly, opening the door and pulling Clint into his living room.

Clint's eyebrows shot up and he laughed a little in disbelief. “You thought I wanted to dom? How the hell did you get that idea?”

“Well, I heard Steve and Tony talkin’... about your... 'dom/sub fantasy' about Steve...” 

“Wait a minute. You thought I wanted to dom _Captain America?!?_ ”

“Yes, what? Why is that so funny?” Clint just stared at him and tried - mostly unsuccessfully - to stifle his chuckling. “You didn’t exactly seem like the submissive type!”

“It's a little more complicated than that, but, hey, I guess I should be flattered, this means you think of me as a strong, forceful, BAMF-type top.” Clint gave Bucky his best Commander of Men expression.

Bucky just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinkin’.”

“Ouch.”

“Let me make it up to you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Bucky kissed Clint roughly and herded him towards the couch, starting to work his hands under Clint's clothes. He pulled his tongue out of Clint’s mouth long enough to ask, “Can I?”

“Fuck yes,” Clint groaned, “You’re the boss.”

Bucky felt his dick twitch at the words. “You have to tell me if I do somethin’ you don’t like,” trying to sound authoritative through the fog of arousal.

“Promise,” Clint said, and yanked off his shirt before whipping it somewhere behind him, and grabbing for Bucky’s. 

“Uh,” Bucky said, hesitating. “It’s kind of a mess,” he tried to explain, as Clint let go of his shirt, and settled his hands on Bucky’s hips instead. 

“Hey, you’re in charge, here, you don’t have to explain.” 

Bucky tore his mind away from his own self-consciousness to appreciate Clint’s broad, hard chest and gorgeously-muscled arms. He had seen it all before, but now, he was finally going to get to touch and kiss and lick and suck every inch of skin he had only been able to stare at longingly.

Clint watched Bucky’s expression and said under his breath, “I’m kind of a mess, too, if you didn’t notice.” 

Bucky scoffed. Yes, Clint had plenty of scars, some from bullets, some from stab wounds, but they did nothing to distract from how gorgeous he was. Bucky was suddenly overwhelmed with wanting to get his hands and mouth everywhere at once. “Bullshit,” he sighed, and slid his hands over Clint’s impossibly tight abs. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” He bent down to kiss a path towards Clint’s nipples. He kissed one of them, and licked it tentatively. 

“Goddamn...” Clint sighed, gripping Bucky’s hip harder with one hand and moving the other to the back of Bucky’s head – not pulling him in any particular direction, but slowly stroking his hair as he breathed unsteadily. 

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Bucky teased, before working the nub between his lips and grazing it gently with his teeth.

Clint made inarticulate noises and gasps as Bucky teased one nipple with his mouth, and the other with his right hand. “God, Bucky, please...” he finally begged. 

Bucky grinned and swapped sides. “What’s the matter?”

“You got me so hard I’m starting to get dizzy,” Clint confessed breathlessly.

“Poor thing,” Bucky said softly, then stood fully to kiss at Clint’s mouth. He moved both his hands to Clint’s waistband. “You want these off?”

Clint nodded and quickly unbuttoned his pants, then shrugged them off his hips without even bothering with the zipper. 

Bucky couldn’t help but snicker a bit as Clint’s underwear were revealed. “Your boxers have little bows and arrows on them,” He fingered the material, but determinedly ignored the obvious bulge. For the moment.

“In my defense, I wasn’t expecting anyone to see them, when I got dressed this morning,” Clint said, stepping out of his jeans. 

“I’d hate to be predictable,” Bucky snarked, guiding Clint to the couch, and pushing lightly on his shoulders. Clint sat down hard on the sofa and stared up at Bucky pleadingly through his blonde eyelashes. Bucky knelt slowly in front of him, settling his hands on Clint’s muscled thighs. He leaned forward to taste Clint’s mouth again, and Clint’s arms wrapped around his neck, stroking his hair and one side of his jaw. When Clint seemed sufficiently distracted by the kissing, he slowly slid Clint’s legs apart, then inched his hands slowly up the insides of his thighs. 

Bucky pulled back just enough to speak, but Clint beat him to it, pleading, “Yes, fuck, yes, please, _fuck_.” Clint was almost incoherent with want, throwing his head back involuntarily as the warm fingers of Bucky’s right hand gently stroked his cock through his boxers. Bucky grinned smugly at the reaction and crowded closer, delighting in the feel of the hot, hard length. He settled the metal fingers of his left hand at Clint’s hips, and pulled him forward, as close as he could.

Clint’s reactions were so unrestrained, and Bucky loved it. He had never been with anyone so loud and uninhibited. He never wanted those gorgeous noises and desperate, pleading facial expressions to stop. 

Clint worked one of his hands under Bucky’s shirt to scratch his fingernails down Bucky’s back. He shivered and shook, and moaned and begged, “ _Mmmm, please,_ I need more, fuck, please, need to feel you.” 

Bucky couldn’t resist. He stood up, pulling Clint with him, then yanked at the ridiculous shorts. Clint got the message and whipped them off in a flurry, while Bucky wrestled his own jeans off. He guided Clint to lie down on his back on the couch, then climbed slowly on top of him. He grabbed Clint’s hands and pinned them above Clint’s head. Clint moaned at the action, then moaned again, even louder, when Bucky rocked his hips down onto Clint’s, guiding their dicks together through the thin fabric of his briefs. 

“God, I'm _dying_ here, Bucky, _so_ goddamn hot, I can’t get enough of you, fuck, _please_ ,” Clint chanted brokenly, breathlessly, grinding his hips up hard against Bucky’s.

“Mmm, I could listen to you like this for days,” Bucky practically growled, “do you have any idea how hot it is hearin’ you desperate like this, feelin’ you writhin’ around and beggin’ for me?” He gave into the temptation to kiss Clint for a few long, breathless moments. “If I move my hands, can you be good for me and keep ‘em above your head?” Bucky teased, then licked a stripe from Clint’s collarbone to his ear. 

“Yes, please, fuck, yes,” Clint grasped his hands together above his head, and Bucky lifted himself off Clint to work his briefs down far enough to release his hard, red, leaking cock. He stroked himself slowly and groaned. Clint stared at him and bit his lip, obviously struggling to obey Bucky’s request, fighting the impulse to grab and take. “God, Bucky, you’re _killing_ me, please.” 

Bucky grinned, slightly predatory, before shifting to align his cock with Clint’s and wrap his right hand around both of them. He teased them both together, taking a moment to appreciate the sight, then leaned down, bracing his left arm over Clint’s hands, pressing them down hard as he thrust his cock against Clint’s and devoured his lips. The feeling of their fevered flesh sliding together was indescribable, and the mix of sweat and precum was making everything slicker and hotter by the second. Then, Clint bit down hard on Bucky's lower lip, and he jolted as his orgasm was ripped out of him. He cried out as his hips jerked arrhythmically, and he painted Clint’s groin and stomach with his come. He managed to keep from collapsing entirely on top of Clint, but it was a close thing. 

“ _Holy fuck_ , that was _crazy hot_!” Clint breathed in an amazed voice. He was still hard as granite and twitching, desperate to reach his own climax.

Bucky leaned down and whispered, “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” and chuckled darkly. He repositioned himself, grinned up a Clint, then winked at him before abruptly deep-throating his cock. 

.......

About an hour later, Clint and Bucky were lying on their sides on Bucky’s bed, facing each other, completely naked and somewhat worn out. They were both too hot to really cuddle, but their fingers were still intertwined, and they traded sporadic kisses. Bucky couldn’t stop smiling, and Clint wasn’t much better.

“You look like the fucking Cheshire cat,” Clint muttered. “Cap and Stark are going to be so fucking smug about this. We’re going to have to hide out in here until we stop looking like two guys who just got hella laid.”

“Or, we just act so obnoxious and inappropriate they run outta the room, screamin’. I’m talkin’ really put on a show. Somethin’ to make even Stark blush.”

“I’m not sure such a thing is possible, but I like the way you think. You weren’t around when those two first hooked up, they were like high school freshman showing off their first boyfriends. Seriously, they were joined at the hip, stars in their eyes, the whole cheesy nine yards.”

Bucky paused. “Well, we don’t have to be like that, if you don’t want to...”

Clint smiled. “Oh, baby, we are going to be _sooo_ much worse.”

Bucky laughed. “That works for me.”


	6. Showtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later, Bucky is finally ready to try to make Clint's fantasy come true.

Bucky waited anxiously while Clint held out a hand to the teenager who had been terrorizing Astoria with her homemade freeze ray. If the wannabe mad scientist agreed to come in quietly, she would be given the chance to use her genius for good instead of mayhem. If she blasted Clint in the face, he’d probably have to spend the rest of the day in medical, being thawed out.

Bucky held his breath as she considered Clint’s offer, and cheered aloud when she set down her weapon and clasped Clint’s outstretched hand.

“OK, Jarvis. Operation is a go. Send Clint a message to get home ASAP and meet me in the bedroom.”

Bucky opened the trunk at the back of his closet, and pulled out a pair of camo pants and two sets of dog tags. He felt anxious, but also, excited. He grinned. 

.......

A few weeks ago, while lying in bed and enjoying the afterglow of some particularly athletic sex, Bucky had finally found the nerve to bring up a topic he’d been putting off.

“So, tell me a story,” he said into Clint’s ear.

“What kind of story?” Clint asked.

“About readin’ Captain America comics when you were a horny teenager.”

Clint raised his eyebrows. “You sure you really want to hear about how I used to jerk off to stories about somebody else? Even a fictionalized somebody else?”

“I’m just curious… about what you liked… what was it about Fake Cap that pushed your buttons?”

“Well, at that age, linoleum pushes your buttons. I also had a permanent hard-on for Deanna Troi from Next Gen.”

“Well, you can tell me about that, if you’d rather.”

“That one’s pretty simple.”

“Tight outfit?”

“The tightest. But really it was the Empath thing. Which is like, a psychic, but with feelings. So, she’d be able to sense exactly what you want, and, even better, she’d get turned on, just from you being turned on.”

“Interesting… So, did you want to… submit to her?”

“Not exactly. I definitely liked the idea of being with somebody who already knew exactly what to do… less chance of me saying or doing something stupid.”

“Is that why you liked Captain Rogers? You wanted somebody to take charge and teach you the ropes?”

“That’s probably part of it, sure.”

“What’s the other part of it?”

“Well, I mean, it’s Captain America. He’s like, a symbol of all that is upstanding and good.”

Bucky couldn’t hold in a scoff.

“Yeah, I know, the real Steve’s not really a paragon of virtue, but, this was Fake Cap. He was so… clean, y’know? Made me want to… get him dirty. Bring him down to my level, or something?”

“You wanted to debauch a national icon?”

Clint paused to think. “I liked the idea… of provoking somebody so… straight-laced and rule-abiding… to do something crazy.”

Bucky hummed thoughtfully. He could work with that. 

.......

The moment Clint burst into the room, Bucky almost lost his nerve. He suddenly felt self-conscious, and he itched to grab Clint, kiss him breathless, and take him straight to bed for normal, vanilla sex. But he resisted, and held out his hand, dog tags resting on his upturned palm. He tried to force words out of his mouth. Clint’s eyebrows were raised, and he stared, first at the tags, then at Bucky’s outfit, then at his face, searching. Bucky swallowed around his nerves and tried to communicate with his face: I want to give you this. Do you want it?

Clint took a few steps closer to Bucky and slowly reached out to accept the tags. He fingered them tentatively for a moment, then slowly, deliberately, lifted the chain over his head. He settled the chain around his neck, tucked the tags under his shirt, then did his best to assume an “at attention” pose.

Bucky choked back his nervous laughter. The last thing he wanted was to make Clint think he was laughing at him. There was just something absurd about the idea of him being a commanding officer. Yes, he had technically been a Sergeant, but that was seventy years of assassinations ago, and even back then, none of the Commandos were all that formal about the chain of command. He cleared his throat.

“You remember your safe word?”

Clint blinked. “Red for stop, yellow for pause.”

“Very good, soldier.” Bucky said, as authoritatively as he could manage. “At ease.”

Clint did his best to comply, and didn’t respond.

“Do you know what you’re doing here?” Clint didn’t respond, he just kept staring straight ahead. Bucky circled him, slowly, appraisingly. “Permission to speak.”

“Sir, no, sir,” Clint said, still looking straight ahead. 

Bucky stopped directly behind Clint, and leaned forward enough to growl into Clint’s ear, “I think you do. And I think you know this is a dangerous game you’ve been playing. Flirting with me, teasing me every chance you get. Just waiting for me to _snap_ \- ” at this, he smacked Clint’s ass, hard. Clint bit his lip and swallowed audibly. “Well, soldier, you got your wish.”

Clint started to turn to face Bucky, but Bucky grabbed his shoulders and pushed. “Eyes front, that’s an order.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Clint replied, slightly breathless.

“You’ve been sniffing around me for weeks, but if you want to play, you need to remember one thing: _I make the rules_.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“Don’t move,” Bucky growled, and stepped closer to Clint and pressed against his back. Clint held still, but Bucky could feel his entire body tightening. Ordinarily, feeling Bucky hard and throbbing against his ass made him writhe like a man possessed, but for the sake of the game, he held still. Ordinarily, he’d be moaning and cursing, but he was swallowing all his lovely sounds and forcing himself to take measured breaths, instead. Bucky hummed softly. “So you _can_ follow orders, after all.” 

Bucky ran his left hand up to Clint’s pecs and teased at his nipple through his tac vest. Clint shivered minutely. Bucky slid his right hand down to cup the bulge in his pants. Clint started panting. Bucky nipped his neck. “How much longer do you think you could stand still and be quiet for me, huh? I’m guessing not very long. That’s okay, though, because I _want_ to hear you. As long as you don’t move until I say so, and don’t speak, unless it’s to answer my questions, you can make all the noises you want. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir.”

Bucky moved to stand in front of Clint again. He yanked on the collar of Clint’s vest. “Take this off. Slowly.” Clint obeyed immediately, unfastening his collar and slowly sliding the zipper down. He parted the material with both hands and slid his arms out, one at a time. He dropped the garment behind him on the floor. Bucky immediately surged forward and grabbed the dog tags around Clint’s neck in his metal left hand.

“Do you know what these tags mean, soldier?”

“Sir, no, sir.”

“They mean you’re the property of the U.S. government. But right now, they mean you’re the property of _me_. They mean _your ass is mine_. Understand?”

Clint shuddered with arousal. “All yours, sir.”

“Where they go, you go. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky pulled the tags to his right, and watched Clint follow the movement. Then he pulled them to the left, and Clint obediently followed. 

“You think they call them dog tags because I can lead you around like a dog on a leash?”

Clint groaned softly and his eyes slid closed. 

“Answer me.”

“Sir, I don’t know, sir.”

“You need a short leash, don’t you?”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

“You need to learn discipline.”

“Sir, yes, please, teach me, please, sir.”

Bucky yanked downwards on the tags and watched in aroused amazement as Clint dropped to his knees. He pulled the tags away from himself, forcing Clint to lean backwards, threatening his balance. Clint looked blissed out, drunk on pleasure. Still.

“Check in with me, baby,” he said, dropping his commanding tone for the moment.

Clint blinked. “Green, totally green, sweetheart, this is fucking amazing. I love you.”

Bucky used his right hand to open his camo pants and free his cock. He yanked the dog tags towards him, and Clint followed obediently, his mouth parting to take in Bucky’s dick. Clint moaned and attacked his task with enthusiasm.

As amazing as it felt to have Clint’s mouth wrapped around his cock, Bucky held himself back. He needed to keep enough mental distance to stay “in character”. Ordinarily, when Clint went down on him, he moaned curses and praise more-or-less continuously throughout. This time needed to be different. God, it was impossible to criticize the man’s technique. But giving commands was the whole point, right? He held the chain tightly around Clint’s neck with his right hand and grabbed onto Clint’s jaw with his left. He used both hands to pull Clint back and forth, sliding his lips over his cock in a rhythm that was fast enough to be demanding, but far from the punishing speeds he knew Clint was capable of. 

“Stop swallowing,” he growled, and it was a far cry from his detached, commanding tone from earlier, but Clint moaned nonetheless. “Let it get all wet and messy. I want you covered in spit before you get covered in my come.” Clint’s hips bucked forward involuntarily and he groaned even louder. The vibration felt amazing, but the best part was the satisfaction of feeling like he was doing well, like he was giving Clint what he had wanted and dreamed of and fantasized about. “You fucking love this, don’t you?” He kept pulling back and forth, giving Clint no chance to respond, except by moaning around his dick. “I should’ve put you on your knees weeks ago. I knew all you needed was something better to do with that smart mouth. How long have you been jerking off in your bunk, wanting me to get you alone and show you who’s in command?” He pulled Clint off and looked down at him, gasping, flushed, his lips swollen, his chin covered in saliva and pre-cum. “How long?” he demanded. 

“Sir, since the first time I saw you. I wanted this, wanted you, for so long. Please, please, let me make you come, sir.”

“Well,” Bucky said, smirking, and pretending to think it over. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He yanked Clint’s face forward a little abruptly, but still with only a fraction of his true strength. This time, he set a slower pace, guiding Clint to take him deeper into his throat, holding him there briefly, then pulling him back and letting him catch his breath while licking and nibbling the tip. Oh, Christ, that felt amazing. He fought to stay in control, to keep his mind off how good it felt and how much he wanted to come. 

“Rub yourself off on my leg,” Bucky bit out. 

Clint moaned and eagerly obeyed, positioning one of Bucky’s legs between his and grinding against him through their clothes. Bucky knew it couldn’t be very satisfying, and might actually hurt if he let him keep going for very long. The image was a lot hotter than the actual feeling. 

“You really are desperate for it, aren’t you? You act tough, you act like a rebel, but all along, you were just dying to be put in your place. As soon as you make me come, I’m going to strip you out of those pants and get your ass ready to take my cock.” 

Clint moaned and started sucking even harder. Bucky gave Clint more slack, and stopped guiding his head. “C’mon, soldier, show me what you can do.” Clint seized the base of Bucky’s cock with one hand and snaked the other down into his pants to massage his sac. Bucky’s head fell back and he shivered at the touch. Clint used his lips and tongue to tease the tip one final time, then thrust Bucky’s cock deep into his throat and swallowed around it. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore, and rocked his hips roughly as he came down Clint’s throat. He had to grab onto Clint’s shoulders for balance as he rode out his orgasm. “Fuuuuuuuuuuccck,” he keened as Clint gave him a final lick, and gently eased off. 

“Naked,” Bucky commanded. “Now. Strip.” Clint rushed to comply, yanking off his boots and socks, then standing to hurry out of his pants and boxers. Bucky raised his eyebrows at the sight of Clint’s throbbing, dripping cock, so red it was almost purple. He clamped down on the desire to drop to his knees and lick it until Clint came all over him. “Face the wall. Hands above your head.” Clint hurried into position, and Bucky took a few deep breaths to try to calm down. He grabbed the bottle of slick from his pocket and opened it, watching Clint shiver and fractionally jerk his hips. 

Bucky knelt behind Clint and took a moment, as he often did when he found himself in this position, to appreciate Clint’s ass in all its splendor. Even after six months together, he sometimes couldn’t believe that he now had the opportunity to shower this man with affection after fantasizing about him for so long. He held Clint’s hip with his metal hand, and caressed his back with the other. He moved slowly downwards, but stopped his hand at his tailbone. He leaned down and nipped gently, nibbled briefly, then started to massage the other pert, perfect cheek. Clint sighed and shivered and generally enjoyed the attention. Bucky thought fondly about rimming Clint to incoherence as he had a few nights ago, but decided to stick to his plan. 

Bucky slicked up his fingers, and slid them slowly up and down the cleft, teasing a little and getting Clint wet and even more worked up. He slowly worked the clear, viscous liquid around the rim before sliding one finger in, meeting little resistance. He teased Clint some more, and the way Clint was shaking and his cock was dripping on the floor, he was a little surprised Clint hadn’t broken down and started begging, yet. He was making plenty of sounds, but Bucky was impressed that he hadn’t even let a “please” slip out. He moved his finger in and out and massaged the rim, and finally slid a second finger in. As familiar as he was with this part of Clint’s body by now, a part of him felt like he could do this for hours. He started to feel a little mesmerized, watching his fingers work Clint open. Bucky’s cock was swelling again and he was hit with a strong wave of feverish arousal. He slid a third finger into Clint and started crooking his fingers, searchingly, eager to see what kind of reaction he could provoke. He was not disappointed, and as he massaged the tiny gland, Clint headbutted the wall in front of him and tried desperately to rock back on Bucky’s fingers. Bucky did his best to hold Clint’s hips still with his metal hand, but he couldn’t deny he enjoyed watching Clint get increasingly desperate to be fucked. He realized he hadn’t managed to incorporate any of the commands or dirty talk he had planned for this portion of the festivities, but dismissed the thought as probably irrelevant. At this point, Clint was probably too far gone, anyway. As it was, he seemed likely to come as soon as Bucky laid a hand on his cock. 

“You need it bad, don’t you?” Bucky growled. “Beg me.”

Clint’s words escaped out of him in a breathless rush. “Please, please, I need it so bad, please, fuck me, please – ”

Bucky stood up, coated his dick with lube, and snarled, “Please, what?”

“Please, _sir_.”

Simultaneously satisfied and desperate, Bucky grabbed the base of his cock and slowly pushed into Clint. Relief shuddered through Clint’s body and Bucky grabbed his hips with both hands to hold him upright. Finally exhausted with teasing, he bit down on Clint’s neck and started fucking into him, vigorously. Clint sobbed brokenly with pleasure. Bucky pushed and pulled on Clint’s hips and bent his knees to try to find the perfect angle to drive into Clint. He knew the moment he found it, because Clint made a noise somewhere deep in his throat that sounded absolutely _wrecked_. Bucky felt his second orgasm rushing upon him. He wrapped his right hand around Clint’s dick and worked it in time with his thrusting. Time seemed to lose all meaning as he drove into Clint, driving Clint’s cock back and forth through his tight, wet fist. Clint was crying out continuously, so loud and needy that Bucky wanted nothing more than to take mercy on him and bring him off as fast as possible. He pulled Clint tightly to his chest, and gave him one final command: “Come, _now_.”

Clint obeyed immediately. 

.......

The next evening, Bucky was about to head into the kitchen when he stopped short. 

“He planned the whole thing and surprised me when I got home from the mission with Little Ms. Freeze Ray,” Clint bragged. “I don’t know what I did in a previous life to deserve this, but it must’ve been damn good.” 

Bucky smirked, and folded his arms over his chest.

“So glad for you both, really, but I don’t need—” Tony protested. 

“I’ve never come that hard in my entire life,” Clint cut him off. “It was fucking phenomenal. The man is a _god_ , and by that, I mean, I could worship his cock for _hours_.” 

“Um, I’m not sure Bucky would… want you telling us… all this…” Steve forced out, awkwardly. 

But Bucky was already charging into the room. He grabbed Clint roughly and threw him over one shoulder. “I really, really don’t mind,” he said, before he turned and rushed Clint to the elevators. 

“Talk to you guys later,” Clint called cheerfully, hanging upside down and enjoying the view of Bucky’s ass. 

Steve looked at Tony. “I can’t help but feel a little bit responsible for this.”

Tony gaped at him. _“A little?!”_

Steve just smiled at Tony, fondly, then shrugged. “Maybe more than a little.”

Tony eyed his boyfriend. “I know you prefer to keep our sex life to ourselves, and I'm fine with that...”

“But?”

“But, you should know that it is a constant struggle, resisting the urge to brag about your exceptional bedroom prowess.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Well then, why don't we go upstairs right now and I'll give you something to resist the urge to brag about?”

They hurried off. 

(Later that night at dinner, when Natasha remarked that Tony seemed much quieter than usual, Tony gave Steve a significant look. Steve blushed, swallowed, and immediately changed the subject.)


End file.
